Marianne Press introduces new title:
POEMS 1993-2017
Hand-sewn edition of 10
Japanese silk cover
Linen paper
306 pages
C O N T E N T S
FROM
The Goddesslands Trilogy
1993-2000
Page 1
———
La Chanson de Pamé La Calmette
2002
Page 29
———
FROM
The Gospels of the Cells
2001-2007
Page 87
———
Poems of Days
2007-2012
Page 153
———
The Sound of Loneliness
2012
Page 185
———
FROM
Desert Confessions
2014-2015
Page 213
The New Chanson
2014-2015
Page 229
———
Tropical Interlude
2015
Page 243
———
Oasis Poems
A Desert Finale
2015-2017
Page 249
———
The Other Shore
Summer, 2017
Page 271
———
———
Extant Poetry
(Hymns, Prayers, Sonnets)
1966-1992
Page 277
EXCERPTS
The Sound of Loneliness
2012
You may forget but
Let me tell you
this: someone in
some future time
will think of us
Sappho
Fragment #60
—————————
9/27/2012
Aye, Sappho
Your verse could be
a holy twitter:
Where are you
in our century?
9/28/12 Agèd Mother (1)
Your skin
like rice paper
falls in fragile
folds
from your arm
I watch your bones
carry your skin
as you walk
carefully on dead
feet
numbed by age
You live
In a place
of old ones
With them you hold
your memories at
bay:
wild silent screams
forced down
Collective wisdom
unheard
————————
I ask
Where are you
but lost
in the dream of
death
————————
I stare forever
into tidal pools
finding temporary
mirrors
and a sand crab
that died
a natural death
————————
Sky over sea
Holds winds behind
clouds
sailing through
blue yellow light
———————
FROM
The Gospels of the Cells
2001-2007
France
Summer, 2000
All that has been
prophesized
All that has been
dreamed
Is falling back
into itSelf—
The cowbells and
the She-bells
The whistle of your
valley’s wind
The tastes of love
and touches here
The goddessforms
within the stones
An ancient fortress
is your home.
When summer fades
to autumn’s chill
Your hearth will
call you in—
Enfolding warmth where silent notes
Will rise to song
from caves
Echoing from years
long past—
Receive these words!
For justice has
been served.
I
have known the abyss of suffering
When
the gate slammed behind me.
I
have known the gate to open again and again—
I
have planted a seed.
I
am the seed.
My
name is Pamé la Calmette
And
I was born in the valley of my ancestors.
I
have known the language of the gentle beasts.
I
have heard the worlds of silence.
I
have felt the lashings of injustice
And
I have bled freely the blood of loss,
The
blood of sacrifice.
I
have tasted milk from the white cow on my lips
And
honey from the bees has dropped on my tongue;
I
have followed the directions on my path
And
I have seen the shadows fall at every turn—
I
have seen the risings of the sun
On
this earth and in this earth.
I
have known the earth
As
my flesh, my blood, my bones.
I
have known my soul
As
memories
Of
all that has been since the beginning of Time.
I
have been shipwrecked.
I
have been salvaged.
I
have seen the treasure at the bottom of the sea.
I
have seen the OneEye of Grandfather—
I
have flown with him here-from-there
To
here—this valley of my birth.
He
told me:
Since
the first poem I have been.
I
have played the one note in the universe that is mine,
I
am singing.
I
have wept the one tear in the ocean that is mine,
I
am weeping.
I
have loved and died with my people,
I
am living.
I
have known the fears who all were born with
And
most will die with.
I
have known the release
I
can never claim as my own.
I
was lost from home.
They
said I was floating
Out
to sea from a ravaged coast
And
my heart had broken from thirst
And
my blood and bones had dried.
They
said I was adrift in a boat of clay
And
it was sinking.
They
said some moment had arrived—
A
moment that was mine in all time,
A
moment when I knew they were real
And
no longer would I doubt them,
No
longer would I flee,
I
was free.
And
so that night I leapt
Into
the boat of clay
And
drifted toward an old chateau
That
bore my name: Pamé.
I
landed in the donjon while a bat swooshed about,
It
swept across my forehead and flew out of that house.
Justice? I wonder, as to Themis I kneel
As
her secrets are reveal:
Fairness
Integrity
Evenhandedness—
All
served.
QUEEN
I
You
opened me, you deepened me
Your
cool mists seeped into my pores
You
silenced me, you sat me down
And
all I was, was yours.
Our
eyes together saw our hills
Their
walls of white gray stone recalled
The
mantle of that cave we knew
When
all was one and one was all.
And
green was more than green, our slopes—
Glistening
under drizzling rain
Shining
one vast color, ours
Expanding
toward the river's vein.
Your
body/mine, the silence rang
Bringing
song to pulsing flesh
And
blood and water met the earth
And
tendons, marrow, bones refreshed—
Into
the stones, then out again,
You
carved another tier in me
Excavation
to the light—
This
rolling earth, this ecstasy.
QUEEN
II
You
tugged my breast, your pricked my womb
Your
warm breath nudged me home
You
sat me down before the hearth
As
burning branches groaned.
Into
the blazing coals I gazed
When
suddenly your face appeared
Your
eyes were flashing in the flames—
Beauty's
madness seared.
Your
mouth moved constantly while crazed
No
words, save sizzling pantomime
From
your crown of white-hot jewels
Dancing
from your soul to mine.
QUEEN
III
Watch
the burning, burning down
The
stakes of Montsègur—
Speak,
flames!
From
you core.
I, the Queen of the
Coals say: Nevermore.
Nevermore to flee
through mountains
Nevermore to hide
in caves
Nevermore the
flagellations
Never more the
conflagrations,
O death Untrue!
We flew released to
astral seas
Then gathered
In our temple in the stars
Torn, raked, bruised,
scarred,
We stayed there
seven centuries
Then returned
To the cradle of
our ancestors
Our valley in the
Pyrenees
Extending to your
soul our hands
To ease your
birthing agonies.
Arise, Soul!
Awaken in the
goddesslands.
Yea, we emerged
from tunnels
From all fires and
all wars—
From Montsègur
And before
From Troy
And before
From Before
And before
And now—
Nevermore.
Nevermore shall
beauty burn
Never more shall
beauty bleed
Never more shall
beauty weep the tears
Of Queen unheard.
QUEEN
IV
She has survived
the white hot coals.
Scalding sacrifices
brought her home—
Home to herBody,
home to ourEarth
Home to her
rightful throne.
Voice! Who are you?
Are
you We? Are you All and I?
The
mists have turned to smoke—
Warnings
through the goddesslands
Missiles
striking o'er our earth
(The
massacre of innocents)—
What
voice are you
Speaking
in us true?
I AM all that I am,
I am more than I seem
I am Queen of the
Coals burned clean.
I am white goddess
I am muse
I am the oracle in
the stones
I am grail
I am love effused
I am everlasting
home.
I am the treasure
buried
Now opening to
light
I am your inner
sight.
You have planted
the seed,
The fortress is
restored.
You travel now
within yourself,
A spiral to the
core.
Ear to the stone,
beloved one,
And listen to us
well:
Darkness is not the
enemy,
But an ally in the
plan—
Remember to be
voices heard!
Forever lives the
goddesslands.
Ear to the stone
beloved ones
And listen to us
well:
Light will
penetrate soft flesh,
This is the gods’
command—
Remember to be
voices heard,
Forevermore the
goddesslands.
For we have come
In
two-thousand--one
With heaven's sun.
Oh
Queen of Coals
How
glistening in the black you are
Your
sparkling eyes, like diamond stars—
I
am charred but shining too
And
I am listening to you.
Shine through the
soot and listen well.
Then sing, Pamé,
Our Gospel of the Cells.
Spring, 2002 Ireland
MARINER
FROM AWAY
I
live on the Isle of Elsewhere.
You
can find me only by sea.
Sail
in by the stars, climb the hills by moonlight
I
wait in my hut near the arbutus trees.
It
is for you, whom I wait
Mariner
from Away—
Envoy
of the Poem, bard of the Stones—
I
live only to hear what you’ll play.
So
strum your fair harp and sing me your song
On
a mat of sweet grass we shall rest
Sing
to me of Croomholla, Kilmannah, and Dorsey,
Your
words I receive—each one a caress.
“Aye, the Hag
carried me deep in her womb
We traveled the
seas from Spain
She rested her
sacrum near the rock of the calf
Tilickafinna became
her domain.
To the cradle of Dorsey Island
In spasms of pain
and groans of joy
Came I strumming
chords upon clouds—
The first bard—in
the form of her boy.
Held to her
cragging breasts
Her milk seasoned
salty with brine,
She sang her
lament—it became my own
To sing through the
ages—O love of mine!
And now here we are
beneath arbutus trees
You ask to receive
my words?
Remember our voyage
through the darkest of seas
Remember and sing
and be heard.
Do not let the myth
be forgotten.
Do not sleep in the
mists of the life
Do not forget the
lament
Of my mother come
true
I have just begun
singing to you.
Extant Poetry
(Hymns, Prayers, Sonnets)
1966-1992
THE SONNETS (1982)
Sonnet One
I pine again while
wandering the lofty trail
Over the tree tops
of my bewilderment;
At stars and suns
so far from my travail
(This tight
clamping, then bright unfoldment)
Through the scenic
shivering from head to toe,
Such wilderness I
trample on the earth:
Knowing nothing and
struggling to foreclose
The deeds of
ownership to my joy and worth.
And when life gives
me pause in her wood’s clearing
I find new breath
beneath her clearest skies
As unraveling the
web of doubt and fearing
I watch the bees
with pollen and the birds quick-fly
And touch the fallen stars, the finale to
resistance
Giving way to rest upon the bed of my
existence.
Sonnet Two
This love of mine
is not to fall into your arms
Though tempting is
the warmth your heart bestows;
My love, it rises
to the world in which no harm
Can touch its hem,
and where no pleasures flow.
Not hard nor dry,
this place where light is stirred
Though solo do I
ride and lonely is this land
Where many touches
and affections are deterred
As for a greater
love does reach my hand.
And how, to your
strong silence can I speak
Of this wide talent
from the universe of prayer
When never will my
eyes with your eyes meet
And never our poor
hearts together share,
Save for when we touch love’s axis and
together tip
With mutual fascination of Beauty’s beauteous
lips.
Sonnet Three
If I did step into
that world so bleak and cold
Upon the drizzly
snow and icy streets
And cast my eyes,
my face, my cheeks of rose
Toward gray skies
with clouds a-fleet;
Crossing the sun
and dropping rawness down
On every corner of
this January blight
I think I’d walk
low-cast around my town
With happier dreams
of summer’s fragrant nights.
No, I choose to
stay inside my cozy room
By winter’s hearth
blazing fiery red
And scrawl with pen
my arctic gloom
And write of
ripening fruits instead.
Never have I welcomed these winter months of
chill
Save with verse, when my heart with summer
fills.
Sonnet Four
As love’s flickers
gaily spot the evening, blackened
So flames in your
dark countenance bespeak the sun;
As often, when I
feel my spirit slacken
I am instantly
reminded that dull and bright are one.
To me, you are a
halo circling this warring world,
A recalling of the
mystery of muted, pre-born sounds;
Your warmth is like
a kitten into itself close curled,
The dizzy deepening
of night where stars spin round.
Symbol of all
earthly cries and the universe’s tolling,
Man, you are the
flashing light of my most tearful hour;
You are the waves
of change upon the shoreline rolling
And symbol of the
coolness in hushed, secluded bowers.
Glimpsing you when passing a shaded park in
May:
A reminiscence of love’s touch merged in
night and day.
